


Babymade

by Anonymous



Category: Supernatural, Supernatural RPF
Genre: Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Belly Kink, Breeding, Come Inflation, Egg Laying, Filthy, Impregnation, Knotting, M/M, Male Lactation, Multi, Nipple Play, Object Insertion, Post Mpreg, Pregnant Dean, Pregnant Sex, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Ritual Sex, Size Difference, Size Kink, Training, birth kink, fucked out, incalculably filthy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-18
Updated: 2017-02-26
Packaged: 2018-08-15 19:46:22
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 8
Words: 18,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8070328
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This is a sequel to my kinkmeme entry, Babymaker (http://archiveofourown.org/works/4340576/chapters/9844292).  People have been asking for one for awhile, so I thought I'd start it...no idea how long it will go, or what it will include.  Ppl can comment with suggestions.  I'd recommend reading the first story--or at least the tags--for background.EXPLICIT!  READ the TAGS!





	1. Chapter 1

As summer shades into harvest time, the newest offspring are weaned and brought to the Orphan House. Such is the way of these things. The transition is the official end of Dean’s first cycle as Babymaker, but there is very little ceremony. Cas simply wraps the three children up well against the early-morning chill and walks them across the Commons to their new home, living with other children who have no particular family. He carries one in each arm, and John the Council, in his position as head of the community council, carries the first-born, Dean. The only witnesses are Gabriel, who had come to help Cas get the infants ready, and Sam, who was there because he spent more time at the Babymaker’s House than he did anywhere else except the school library.

Cas had worried that the leave-taking would be difficult for Jensen. After all, the triplets were Jensen’s first offspring, the result of his virgin breeding. He had always been affectionate with his offspring, delighting as they’d developed into little personalities. That’s not true of all Babymakers; for some, the infants were simply a delay before the next, eagerly anticipated round of breeding could begin. When Cas himself had been Babymaker, he had enjoyed the brief weaning period for each batch of offspring. Even so, he remembers a time after his fourth pregnancy (maybe his fifth? they blend together) when he’d forgotten how many children he’d birthed. He hadn’t been able to concentrate enough to get an accurate count until after his heat had passed and he was bred up and pregnant again.

Jensen, however, waves Cas and John off from the porch of his house like a teacher on the last day of school. He is proud of the offspring, pleased by their growth, confident in their futures. But he’s known since before they were conceived that they belonged to the Community. They were in his care for a brief time, and now that time is over. Jensen doesn’t ask about the Orphan House when Cas returns, empty-handed. After all, like every Babymaker, he was raised there. He knows that the offspring of a Babymaker are simply accepted into that household, no more or less special than any other child. The male and female betas who staff the Orphan House cannot carry children themselves, so their role is to raise and educated the children of others. They cherish all their charges equally. Soon, even Dean’s status as the first child of the Babymaker’s first breeding will be forgotten. Such is the way of these things.

The day draws to a close. Cas finds himself wondering which one of the children he saw today—which little female or nascent omega—will be the next Babymaker, selected by the Council to participate in the ritual breeding and bring down the blessings of the Goddess on the Community. He’s considering Mary’s chances when Jensen walks carefully into the kitchen and lowers himself gently into a chair.

“What’s wrong?” Cas asks. Jensen, usually lithe and graceful, is moving as though he’s balancing a china teacup on his head.

“Nothing.” Cas kneels down so he can get a better look at Jensen’s face. The young omega looks a little distressed; his cheeks are flushed and he gnaws his lower lip.

“They’ll be fine, you know,” Cas says gently. “The Orphan House is the best place for them; remember how betas dote on babies?”

“Yeah. I know…”

“And they’ll have plenty of playmates as they grow, even before they go to school with family-children.” The children of mated Alphas often live _en famille_ , raised by the Alpha who sired them and the female or omega who birthed them. Cas knows that sort of family life is often romanticized by those who haven’t experienced it. Had Jensen imagined that sort of life, even though he knew it that the ceremonial mass breeding meant there was no way to tell who sired which of the Babymaker’s offspring?

“No,” Jensen huff, rolling his eyes. “It’s not that.”

Cas draws up a chair, sits next to Jensen, waits patiently. Jensen can be stubbornly independent, but Cas has lived with him for over a year, ever since he came from the Orphan House to be trained as the Babymaker. It’s just a matter of waiting him out…

“I’m sore,” Jensen confesses quickly. “I missed two feeding and Sam said he wouldn’t help—he’s so _stupid_ about following _rules_. And I’m really, you know,” he blushes a deeper pink. “Really full.”

Cas smiles with relief—this, at least, is much more easily fixed than anxiety about the offspring. “It’s not funny,” Jensen goes to fold his arms, then thinks better of it. “No, of course not, sweetling,” Cas soothes. “I’m not laughing at you.” An omega can't conceive while he was still producing milk. One reason the offspring had been moved to the Orphan House was because, without stimulation, Jensen’s milk would dry up and he’d be ready to carry again. But Cas suspects the whole system was designed by an Alpha. Who else would think of nothing but breeding? Who else would imagine that milk production just stops, like someone has shut off a faucet? Especially in a ripe young omega like Jensen, who had been feeding hungry triplets! Cas had let the community midwife inject him with hormones to allow him to produce milk to supplement Jensen’s and by the time he’d returned from the Orphan House, he’d had to call Gabriel down to the root cellar so the Alpha could drink him dry. That had been hours ago and Cas, merely a milk surrogate, wasn’t producing nearly as much as Jensen. No wonder the poor little omega was so irritable: he must be ready to _burst_.

“Let me help?”

Jensen eyes him warily. “Sam says—”

“Sam is just worried about you,” Cas tries to be reassuring, “He doesn’t want to delay your next cycle. But a little stimulation isn’t going to make much of a difference. You know Sam can be a little…rigid.” Sam had devoted himself to learning everything there is to know about the Babymaker ritual ever since taking part in Jensen’s first breeding. He’d been more diligent than Cas would have expected from an Alpha, particularly one so newly matured. It’s true that, as the Alpha son of John the Council, he’ll probably be head of Council himself someday, but Cas suspected his interest was more than just academic.

“I’m sure he wouldn’t want you to hurt,” Cas wheedles.

Jensen hesitates. “You won’t….”

“Tell?” Cas has to bite his lip against another smile. He forgets sometimes just how young Jensen is. “No! I won’t tell if you won’t.”

“Thank the _Goddess_ ,” Jensen clambers into Cas’s lap and rucks up his singlet. “Wasn’t sure I could hold out much longer.”

Jensen’s tits were late to develop and they’d shrunk a little since the birthing, but now they are full and round, hard with milk. Droplets form the instant Cas runs his finger around one stiff nipple. “Oh, you _are_ ready, aren’t you?” he mutters and Jensen arches his back, thrusting himself forward. Cas tongues gently until he tastes the first warm rush of milk. It takes nearly half an hour to drain Jensen, by which time the little omega is slumped in Cas’s arms, nearly asleep.

“More soon, right?” Jensen mumbles.

“Milk?” Cas asks. Pretty as Jen’s tits are, he hopes not—Jensen’s milk is thick as cream, and he’s already feeling full.

“No!” Jensen’s not too sleepy to roll his eyes. “Babies.”

Cas thinks about the way John’s eyes had followed Jensen this morning, lingering on his hips, and the way Sam has been denying himself so Jensen will be fertile sooner. “That’s right; more babies soon.”


	2. Chapter 2

Very soon: it turns out that some of Jensen’s sensitivity and petulance is pre-heat.  And just like the first time, his heat comes on like a fever: quick and all-encompassing.  Unfortunately, the Community Council’s soothsayers disagree on what date will be most auspicious for conception, so it’s nearly the end of September before Cas finally dresses Jensen for the Breeding Day procession. 

Jensen will never again wear the virginal white, but in his a flowing green gown of transparent netting, he looks delicious, if Cas does say so himself.  His milk has dried up, turning his tits into small, puffy cones topped with dark nipples that pucker in the autumn air.  Cas has painted them with the traditional sigils and Jensen had complained about every tickle of the paintbrush. His belly is flat and firm, lightly patterned with silvery stretch marks.  Omega’s recover their figures quickly after childbirth, so there’s just a little softness there.  Won’t even be enough to jiggle when he’s stretched around an Alpha cock.  Combined with the new muscles in his hips and thighs, developed to support the weight of his last pregnancy, however, it makes the boy seem endearingly slender and vulnerable.

The festival procession is as raucous as any Cas can remember. Jensen is a crowd-favorite: he’s already entered the record books as the young omega who lost his virginity to a triple pregnancy.  The book-makers are doing a good business, taking bets on how many offspring he’ll carry this time and who will sire them.

Cas has his own theories, but no one asks him.  He's the Keeper of the Babymaker, but the Babymaker is no longer an inexperienced virgin.  Jensen knows what is expected, even knows the order of breeding--first the Council members, then the Alphas representing other important families.  While waiting on the soothsayers, he has collected all the pillows and cushions in the house, and borrowed some from the midwife, Ellen.  By the time Cas has found seats for all the Council members, Jensen has already taken the first one into his bed.  It's not until he's checked a list of other Alphas, arranged by seniority, that he realizes one Council-member is missing.  He counts heads again, checks faces: where's Gabriel? 

Cas knocks on the door to the bedroom, but only gets a high moan in reply.  When he opens the door, he can barely see Jensen peek over the broad muscled shoulders of the Alpha plowing him into the bed.  It's not Gabriel; Cas would recognize his movements.

“Caaaas—C’mere, Ca-as,” Jensen slurs, drunk on pleasure and hormones.  His voice cracks into another moan when the Alpha drives into him.

Cas approaches cautiously: Alphas in rut can be unpredictable, especially if they think an interloper is trying to take their bitch.  This one, however—a shaggy-haired Council member who is built like an oak tree—seems lost in the animal ecstasy of breeding. 

 “Hey, Cas,” Jensen grins up at him from his nest of pillows, loopy and blissful, sweat-slick, his pupils blown wide. “Hey, you.  It’s hot in here.  You hot?  Gimme kiss?” He tugs Cas down next to him, grunts as each hard Alpha thrust makes the whole bed jump. Cas wouldn’t believe Jensen’s slim young body could withstand such force, except that the last time they’d been in this bed together, Jensen had been grunting and sweating to birth the offspring of a similar breeding.

“Is it good?” Cas asks, just to be sure.  He’s pretty confident of the answer, given the restless way Jen’s hips are writhing.

“ _So_ good,” Jen gasps with wide-eyed earnestness.  “Wanna feel?”  He grabs Cas’s hand, presses it clumsily to his stomach.  “C’n you feel ‘im?”  Jensen’s voice drops to a confidential whisper.  “ _I_ can feel him.  Deep.”  Cas can feel too: under the sweat-slick skin of Jensen’s belly, he can feel the movement of thick Alpha cock pushing closer to Jensen’s womb. “Says he wants to breed me—breed me up full,” Jensen throws a clumsy arm around the Alpha’s wide neck, “S’wat you said. You gonna do it, big boy?  Fill me up w’your babies?  Dare ya’.”

The Alpha growls in reply, heaving Jensen bodily off the bed, his hips hunching so rapidly that the omega’s limbs flail for a moment before they cling to the huge Alpha.  Cas eases out of the bed—he doesn’t think the Alpha has even registered his presence—and goes to open one of the glass doors that make up most of the far wall.  Jensen’s right: it is hot in here, hot and redolent of sweat and slick and spunk.  Ca s can hear the wet thwack of heavy alpha balls smacking Jensen’s holes. A sudden yelp and then the muffled _unh, unh, aah_ that means the knot is stretching its way into Jensen’s breeding cunt.  Cas can see the reflection in the window: the Alpha’s buttocks clenching as he pumps, Jensen’s toes curling where he’s wrapped his legs around his mate’s thick waist, his head lolling on the broad shoulder.  And then he sees something else, out in the yard when he glances through the glass: Gabriel.

Cas slips out, leaving the door open behind him, and steps down into the grassy hollow of waste ground between the Babymaker’s House and the woods that mark the border of the Community. The missing Council Alpha waits for him.

Keenly aware of the breeding couple in the room behind him, Cas  doesn’t speak until he’s close enough to feel the heat of Gabriel through his ceremonial robes. “You’re supposed to be _in there_ ,” he hisses, talking simultaneously about Jensen’s room and his fertile body. 

“I know—but I’m ready.”

“So?” Half the Alphas in the Community have been ready for weeks.  Has the presence of Jensen’s obvious scrambled Gabriel’s brain?  Cas mentally reviews the size of Jensen’s current partner, the order of breeding, the hierarchy of the Council. “Look, he’ll be knotted with this last one for a bit, but I can send you in after. Bobby's after, and then just the younger Alphas and—”

“I’m _ready_ ,”  Gabriel’s voice is deep and somber.  He shrugs off his ceremonial cape and tugs up his tunic.  Even in the dim light, Cas can see the long bulge of his cock through his leggings. Inexplicably, his mouth is suddenly awash with spit.  He nearly chokes when he swallows. 

“I, uh—that is…You.”

“Stimulant ,” Cas says shortly.

Now Cas is really confused.  Jensen’s been in heat for ages: all the Alphas in The Community are boiling with rut. Taking a stimulant in that condition is dangerous. “Why?!”

In answer, Gabe reels Cas in for a kiss.  Cas can’t help it: his hand has to brush Gabe’s midsection, just the tip of his cock.  Gabe deepens the kiss, his whole tongue fucking into Cas’s mouth.  He nudges Cas’s hand down the length of his cock, between his legs, to where his balls hang so swollen they’re almost hard.  When Cas cups them, weighs them in his palm, Gabe whines, pulls away for a moment until he can regain his control. 

“That’s why. That’s for you.  I’ll breed Jensen—Council-member, I know—but I want you first.”  Gabe tilts Cas’s head so his face is plainly visible in the darkness.  “I want to breed you, first.” He settles his hands on Cas[s hips with a possessiveness that makes Cas tremble when Gabe’s thumbs brush his belly over the waist of his leggings. “I want to put a baby here, inside you.  Not for the Community or for the Orphan House, but for us.  Can I?”

To answer, Cas drops to his knees tall grass.  He’s vaguely aware of Gabriel bunching up his Keeper’s gown, spreading the cloak beneath him, tipping his pelvis to the most advantageous position.  Good, Cas thinks dizzily: Jensen can fuck however, but Jen is younger and he’s been taking a dozen fertility supplements.  He could probably get impregnated standing on his head. 

“Smell so good,” Gabe mutters, peeling the leggings down far enough to lick along Cas’s ass and down to his breeding cunt.  When Gabe’s tongue flicks along  the clit hidden between his cock and his little balls, Cas’s arms give out.  He buries his moans in the cloak, redolent of dry grass and Gabriel. The next thing he knows, Gabe’s kneading his back, spreading his cheeks.  Opening.  Entering.

 _Unggh_ —Cas lets Gabriel’s cock push the plea out of his mouth.  Gabe has always been long, but tonight he feels particularly thick.  Cas doesn’t know whether that’s the stimulant or his own arousal. He’s been sequestered in the Babymaker’s House with Jensen for two weeks, waiting for the soothsayers to allow the breeding festival, nothing to do but think about making and carrying babies. He’s floating on hormones left over from being around Jensen so much, from being a milk surrogate, maybe even from being a Babymaker himself eight years ago.  Cas can feel the eggsacs tucked inside, above his hips, swollen and ready.  Goddess, he is going to be _so_ pregnant.

Cas whimpers when the big, meaty head of Gabriel’s dick bumps his womb.  He bites his lips, shoots a glance toward the house.  Inside, silhouetted against the light, he can see Jensen.  The breeding of the Babymaker has continued without the Keeper: his charge’s head is between Ellen’s legs, while someone—Bobby?—fucks him from behind.

Gabriel nudges him deeply again. “Yeah?  Is that where you need me?” Gabe rabbits his hips, setting off fireworks that makes Cas _shake_.  Cas comes, quick and hard, and Gabriel fucks him through it so beautifully that he must lose a little time.  Next time he thinks to look, Jensen is riding Sam, Ellen tucked up so tight behind that she’s got to have her wooden dildo in someone’s hole.  Jensen’s, probably, given the sounds drifting out into the autumn night. 

Cas breathes deeply, sucking in the cool air and the rich smell of mating, as another climax wells up inside him.  Gabriel’s thrusts have gotten shorter, deeper.  Cas can feel the knot burgeoning against the sensitive lips of his breeding cunt.  He concentrates on willing himself open—Gabriel’s knot, never small, is engorged by the stimulants.  Cas knows it’s coming, but the stretch is still a shock.  He can feel a soundless cry burn through his throat when the knot breaches him with an audible wet pop. It’s like birthing in reverse…and he’s not done yet.

“Deeper,” he grunts as Gabriel’s teeth close on the skin of his shoulder.  He knows that within his body, the tip of Gabriel’s cock is emerging from the foreskin, softly pointed like a dog’s.  Cas’s thighs are trembling with pleasure, but he bucks and circles his hips until he gets that point right up to his cervix.  By then, the knot is so large that Cas can only whine in sweet agony when his breeding reflex kicks in and forces his body to milk it.  His whole abdomen contracts and releases, contracts and releases until he can feel the vibration of Gabriel’s stifled groan in his spine, but then there’s the satisfyingly hot flood of alpha seed and the pleasurable stretch of it filling him again and again.  

“Mnn,” Gabriel nuzzles Cas’s ear, fifteen minutes later, “d’you think we did it?  Made us some babies, baby? Don’ wanna be in Jensen ‘til I’ve filled you up.”

Jensen.  Cas had nearly forgotten.  His shifts under Gabriel's delicious weight, turning so his eyes seek out the lamplit scene in the Babymaker’s House.  It takes a moment for his eyes to focus.  He becomes aware of Jensen’s low, wordless begging as his own heartbeat slows. 

Gabriel’s head cocks at the noise, his animal senses on high alert.  “You hear that?  Think he’s as full as you?”  His hands, which have been locked around Cas’s hips, ease down to cradle his omega’s seed-swollen stomach.  “Need to go check on the kid?  Gonna have to push me out, first…”

Cas wants nothing more than to curl up in his Alpha’s arms out here in the night, but he has a duty as Keeper and he takes it seriosly.  Besides, there’s nothing more he can do to become pregnant until after Jensen has had his share of Gabriel’s spunk.  And Cas has always liked teasing Gabriel with what his Omega body can do.  He remembers birthing, remembers how to clench and push with the muscles in a full belly.

~~~

That belly is nicely hidden under the Keeper’s robes by the time Cas finally leads Gabriel to the Babymaker’s room.  Gabriel presses up against him possessively, more than half-hard—Cas had sucked him, on his knees in the flattened grass where they had fucked—and he can feel the Alpha’s cock jump against his low back when they look through the door Cas had left open an hour earlier.

The young and tangled limbs on display on the large bed are gilded by lamplight. Jensen is straddling Sam, his back against the Alpha’s chest and the big knot still visibly plugging his breeding cut. Jensen gasps, sensitive, as Sam grinds deeper with all the lazy satisfaction of an Alpha who knows he’s firmly knotted and not going anywhere.  Because of the supple and flexible nature of breeder tissues, if an omega who has birthed recently is _very_ well fucked, a large Alpha can breach the cervix, bringing about a truly shattering orgasm.  This rare phenomenon is called _breaking the womb_ and, given the dazed, boneless way Jensen is draped, Cas suspects that’s what happened.  Jen looks like he’d slither right off Sam’s lap, if not for the cock splitting his cunt and the Alpha’s strong arms wrapped around his torso.

 “C’mon,” Sam mutters, “C’mon, sweet-tits.  Finish me off.”  One hand plays with the omega’s left nipple while the other paw eases over the swell of Jensen’s belly to jack his softening cock.  Jensen’s legs are spread so widely over Sam’s that his clit is visible. Jensen shifts as Sam’s fingers plays with the little bead between his balls.  He’s tired, full and sore and maybe already pregnant. But his body can’t help but respond.  He rocks his hips, breath hitching as the knot twists inside him, toes scrabbling at the floor.  Sam mumbles private words of praise.  His grip on Jensen’s little breast grows tighter as the boy’s breeding reflex kicks in.  By the time Jensen’s squeezed out two more little orgasms and the rest of Sam’s spunk, he’s got five pretty pink fingerprints pressed into his titflesh and he’s so relaxed Sam has to roll him onto his knees to ease his cock out.  When he does, Jensen’s belly hangs down, a ripe curve that nearly touches the rumpled bed.  Cas wonders how many babies the boy has in there already and if Gabriel has enough spunk to make more.  He grinds his ass back against Gabriel’s thickened cock and pushes open the door.

If the boys wonder why Cas and Gabriel are entering from the yard and not the house, they don’t show it.  Sam looks suspiciously at Gabriel, but eventually yields the bed; it's clear from his walk that he's confident that he's bred up the little omega and has nothing to fear from rival Alphas. Jensen lounges on the bed, looking four months pregnant with his distended belly.  Of course, if he's knotted with Sam, one of the youngest Alphas, then he's had nearly every other eligible breeder in the Community, so that's no surprise.

“Help me?” Gabriel asks, suddenly hesitant.

Jensen’s cunt opens easily to Cas's fingers: the gape signals that he is still available for breeding, still has eggs to be fertilized.  The little omega is hot and sleek inside.  He looks at Cas, confused by the delirium of heat.  His mind id telling him too much, but his body wants more, more, more.  Jensen wants tenderness and touch, the way he always does after an intense orgasm, but Gabriel is in breeding mode now and focused on one thing: breeding.  (Although, Cas can't help but remember with satisfaction, he spent a lot of time touching _me_...) So Cas curls up next to Jensen and slides one arm around his waist, cupping the limp omega dick against the swollen belly both to hold his hips still for Gabriel and for the visceral pleasure of feeling his burgeoning belly.  He nuzzled the by’s sweat-damp hair, licks his ear, whispers filth about how big he is, how many offspring he’ll bring the Community.  He thinks Gabriel likes hearing him, too.  

Jensen’s sounds take on a pleading edge.“Oh, Cas—I can’t,  It’s too much, I’m so full.” 

But his toes are curling with pleasure. Cas knows Gabriel’s rhythms now, knows the Alpha is ready to pop his knot: it’s too late to stop this breeding, even if Jensen really wanted to.  Cas wrestles out of his Keeper's robe, down to his leggings, eager to feel Jensen's heat flushed skin against his own.  He hooks his elbow under Jensen’s knee and angles his pelvis. 

“You can—I know you can; let him in,”  Cas coaxes, “all the way.”  He should be jealous, not holding a fertile young omega down for Gabriel, certainly not trying to get Gabriel’s cock into Jensen’s cervix.  But they are the two people he is closest to in the world,he thinks as his hand falls onto the nearest surface—Jensen’s taut belly—and he can feel Gabriel’s knot catch.  He wants them to get what they want: more babies and a spectacular climax. 

“More,” he commands, knowing that Gabriel’s Alpha instincts will slacken off now that he’s knotted (for the second time today).  Besides, holding Jensen this way means the boy’s thigh crosses the soft swelling where Gabrel’s seed is still inside Cas.  At a visceral level, Cas wants that same seed in Jensen as well.  Gabriel rolls his eyes at Cas’s bossy tone, but obligingly humps more deeply—once, twice…  Suddenly, Jensen’s whole body bucks and he throws his head back, eyelids fluttering.  His eager, throaty keening is the single most erotic sound Cas has ever heard. Gabriel nearly collapses, landing half on Cas because the two omegas are so intertwined on the bed.

“Tight,” Gabriel manages to spit out, wide-eyed and overwhelmed at the new and intense sensation.  “Fuck. Goddess. _Tiiight_.”

“Shh,” Cas soothes, kissing him, palming Gabriel’s clenching ass, feeling him tighten involuntarily at each pulse.   “You’re all the way in, you did so well.”  This is obviously the first time Gabriel has broken a womb and Cas feels suddenly, sweetly protective of him, the way he had when Jensen was a virgin.

~~~

The last Alpha of the evening is a young stripling, newly in rut since Jensen’s last breeding.  His jaw drops when he sees not one but _two_ Alphas lurking in opposite corners, sleepy and blatantly drained, too drowsy to drag themselves out of the bedroom, but idly jacking themselves and so confident that they’ve bred up the omega in their midst that they don’t even growl when he enters the room.

Jensen smiles beatifically when he sees the boy.  “ 'Scuse me if I don’t get up,” he runs a hand along his distended belly.  “’ m a li’l full right now. ” 

The kid—Ben, Cas thinks his name is—must look a little intimidated, because Jensen holds out his hand and brings the boy in for a gentle, almost chaste kiss before easing the young man’s cock into his breeding cunt.  It’s a slow, gorgeous fuck.  Jensen wraps his legs around Ben’s hips and manages to guide him without ever seeming to, leading him in deep, languorous thrusts until he knots, then milking him tenderly.  Ben’s not big enough to break him again, but Jensen gives appreciative little moans that are sure to flatter the kid’s ego and guides him to the breast to suckle, just like one of the offspring, so he’s got something in his mouth when he finally spills his first knot. 

Ben would probably have fallen asleep at Jensen’s nipple except that Sam does eventually rouse enough to snarl at him ‘til he stumbles out of the room.  Then Sam pulls all the bedding onto the floor and curls himself around Jensen on the bed, surrounding the weary omega with his scent.  Jensen is too worn out to do more that whimper when Sam plugs his cunt with his unknotted cock, but Cas can tell it Sam has to push to get it in.  Jensen doesn't gape anymore.  This breeding festival is over: the Babymaker is pregnant.


	3. Chapter 3

A week later, Cas opens the kitchen door to find Sam standing outside, looking like an overgrown schoolboy in his class uniform.  Of course, he _is_ an overgrown schoolboy:  most Alphas leave the Community school after their first rut, but Sam has stayed on, attending whenever he’s not hunting.  Cas wonders if he’s teased for it. Probably not: his father is John Winchester, the head of the Community Council, and it’s a poorly concealed secret that Sam sired at least one (probably two) of Jensen’s first offspring.  Who’s going to argue with that?  Especially given Sam’s size.

Sam sniffs and then sucks in a deep breath as a loopy, contented smile spreads over his face. 

“Oh, come _in,”_ Cas hisses, tugging the kid inside.  To an Alpha, particularly one so attuned to Jensen’s fertility cycles, the whole house has the faint, sweet smell associated with a pregnant omega. Sam would probably be content to just stand on the doorstep all day, simply breathing it in.  Cas doesn’t have that kind of time.

“Is he okay?” Sam asks, craning his head as though Jensen might be visible in one of the public areas of the house.

His tone is so genuinely concerned that Cas resolves to be more patient with him.  Sam’s been sweet on Jensen since before Jen had ever been selected as Babymaker, before Sam had even popped a knot.  Theirs had been an odd-couple friendship back when Jen had just been a skinny little nobody from the Orphan House and Sam had been the only son of the Community’s most politically important Alpha.   A lesser friend might’ve resented it when Jensen had been chosen by the Council to be trained up for the sexual rites that formed the basis of the Community’s religion, a stand-in for the very Goddess herself.  Given Cas’s strong suspicion that they’d done more than just share homework and play football, Sam could’ve been annoyed that Jensen’s new, exalted role also involved yearly breedings by Alpha representatives from all the Community’s important families.  Jensen had still been a virgin when he’d been brought to the Babymaker’s House, but Cas suspects that wouldn’t have been the case after even one more summer hanging out with Sam.  Jen had been plucked away from Sam just as he ripened, but not only wasn’t Sam the slightest bit jealous, he seemed to be endlessly generous where Jensen was concerned.  He had spent most of Jensen’s long pregnancy pampering him.   In fact, he’d been the one to finally bring Jensen into labour.

“He’s fine,” Cas replies.  “Sleeping.”

“Good.  That’s pretty normal.”  Sam, always rather bookish despite his athletic size, had read everything he could get his hands on about omega anatomy and breeding.  He probably knew more about it than any non-Alpha except Ellen, the midwife.  (And possibly Gabriel who, Cas recalls with a flush of pleasure, also had a very un-Alpha-like interest in babies and how to make them….).

“Right—I’ll be back in half an hour.   Ellen's been stopping by to take Jen for some exercise, but other than that, you probably won’t get any visitors.”  Outside of breeding, birthing, and one or two other ceremonial occasions, almost no one ever came to Babymaker’s House, which made Gabriel’s and Sam’s attentions all the more remarkable.  Not that they were completely selfless, Cas reminded himself.  He fixed the young Alpha with a stern look.  “Do I need to remind you…?”

“I won’t touch him.  I promise,”  Sam holds up his hands.   It was important, politically, that each chosen Alpha be allowed to breed the fertile Babymaker once and only once.  Once the breeding festival was safely past, any Babymaker could choose lover to keep him or herself amused during the pregnancy.  The delicate part came from the fact that breeding Alphas produced such huge quantities of long-living seed that it could take days for the Babymaker to absorb it all.  Jensen was already pregnant—very pregnant, if the smell was anything to go by—but how many babies he’s carrying is anybody’s guess.  If he shifts in his sleep and a random Alpha sperm reaches an eggsac, it could be the difference between twins and triplets, or triplets and quads.  A fecund Babymaker will bring good fortune on the Community, but if anyone suspects that Sam had an extra opportunity to fuck Jensen while he’s still technically fertile, there will be problems.   Still, Cas has to go and he doesn’t want to leave Jensen completely alone at this critical time.  He’s coming down from the hormonal roller-coaster of heat, plus he's young and he'd been bred _hard_.  He drowses sixteen or eighteen hours a day while his body adjusts.  Sam's a risk, but if Jensen wakes suddenly, there should be a familiar face to comfort and orient him.

“Half an hour,” Cas repeats.  “I’ll be back before you know it.  There’s tea in the cold room if you’re thirsty.  Leave the brew in the blue crock is for Jensen—it’s got extra follate in it.”

Sam rolls his eyes (Cas doesn’t know if he got that habit from Jensen or if it’s just a generic teenage quirk).  “We’ll be _fine_.”

Cas looks both ways, but of course there is no one to see him leave the House and duck into the darkening woods.  If anyone asks, he’ll say he’s looking to harvest raspberry leaf.  It can be used to make a tea that strengthens the uterus.  He mentally rehearses his story as he walks and by the time he reaches the small pond, he almost believes it himself.  The sun sets early these days and even in summer, this pond gets little sun, but Cas shucks his clothes quickly and starts to wade in despite the cold.  After all, he only has half an hour.  His takes a deep breath and ducks underwater, running his hands through his hair to wash away any lingering smell from the Babymaker House.   Then he bobs to the surface and floats, trying to judge the time by the slant of setting sun that makes it through the thick tree canopy.  His limbs look long and smooth and pale under the dark water.  Its chill make him obscenely aware of his body, of his nipples puckered into hard pink beads. He lets his fingers explore how his cock has shriveled above his balls, now pulled up tight as walnuts.

“Don’t,” Gabriel call out, his voice pitched to carry across the water. Cas shakes water out of his ears and looks to where the Alpha is standing on the shore. “Don’t cover yourself.  You look like a selkie.”

Cas feel himself blushing despite the cool air: he’s not used to receiving compliments from Alphas.  He allows himself a few long strokes to reach his lover on the banks, showing off.  Gabriel’s towel is the same coarse weave as most of the Community’s linens—not nearly as nice as the things reserved for the Babymaker’s House—but he is gentle in drying Cas, inch by inch.  Finally he drapes the towel around Cas’s shoulders.  He fits his hands into the cut of Cas’s hips and eases him back against a tree trunk before going to his knees in the bracken, and tenderly takes Cas’s balls into his mouth until they warm.  Alphas don’t often suck omegas—there’s no reproductive purpose—but Gabriel seems to crave it. 

“Smell so good,” Gabriel croons. One of his hands follows the curve of Cas’s buttocks, fingers trailing between the cleft to find the opening there.  Cas pushes back into it and Gabriel draws back a moment, looking up at him and wiping his mouth with his free hand.

“You like that?” his voice is rough and curious.

Cas nods, a little shy.  He and Gabriel haven't talked much about these kinds of preferences.  When Gabriel returns—two fingertips, this time—he has a sudden sense-memory.

"When I was, uhh, Babymaker,"  Cas begins,  "maybe my fourth or fifth cycle breeding.  I was, well, it was John the Council turn  Ye-yeah, put it in, just the tip.  Oh!  That;'s good..."  Cas pauses, breathes.  Gabriel uses the fingers in his ass to guide the little omega cock to his mouth.  "I had that, you know, that heavy, uncut cock of his when another Alpha, someone I'd already milked, had pushed up behind." 

Gabriel suckles, gently, as Cas recounts how John had growled, always protective. Cas had begged shamelessly, _molten_ with heat. He squirms, retelling,  "Funny,  Jen can barely stand to be touched for days after his heat, and I just want more..."  Gabriel takes the hint, hooks his fingers in deeper, listens to Cas' whine about how, years ago, John had hoisted him up to hold him steady for the second Alpha. 

"Never been so _open_ ,"  Cas slurs,  "Not even birthing.  Two Alphas."  He rocks his hips between hard thick fingers and soft warm mouth  The Alphas had taken turns, he remembers: the Alpha in his ass retreating as John had filled his pussy, and then surging forward as John pulled back.  But then John’s knot had started to form and his strokes had become shorter and stronger, pummeling Cas’s womb. Stretched between the two rutting Alphas, Cas’s body had reached its limit—a sudden, burning, bursting sensation and then a high ringing in his ears that resolved into a whine that Cas vaguely recognized as his own.  The swollen head of John’s cock had breached his cervix.  He’d been broken and his whole womb throbbed with pleasure. 

He climaxes when he recounts that part, spurting so suddenly that Gabriel nearly chokes.

“That last, uh.  What you said right before you...Is that,” Gabe’s voice sounds used, “like—me and Jensen?”

“Yeah,” Cas smiles, remembering how astonished Gabriel had been when he’d broken Jensen’s womb. “"Til then, I hadn't thought it could really happen.  Doesn’t happen every heat, just sometimes if you've birthed recently, but when it does, it feels…” he trails off, doesn’t have the words. His hips twitch when Gabriel nuzzles his groin.  Sensitive.  Goddess, he just came, but he ready to go again.  Usually he takes a little priming.  It’s a symptom.

“You liked breaking Jensen?"  Cas asks, just to see Gabriel stammer and flush.  "It's all right if you did.  Maybe you'll be breaking _me_ this time next year,” Cas gasps, head falling back as Gabriel licks behind his balls to his cunt.  His back is so broad that Cas feels one of his feel leave the ground as Gabriel burrows closer to where his fingers are still hooked in Cas’s ass.  And the Alpha goes still, crouched on his knees with Cas’s thigh thrown over one shoulder.  When he looks up, his face is slick and his eyes are hopeful.

“You mean…?”

Cas laughs. “Can’t you smell me?”

“I thought—sometimes you smell like…,” Gabriel stutters, “I mean, you’ve been spending so much time with Jensen and, I didn’t realize….” He rises to his feet, unsure of what to do with his body. 

“That’s why we had to meet out here.  So I could wash out in the fresh air.” Cas winds his arms around Gabriel’s neck, leans in to whisper, “That smell?  It’s me.  Plus, I just came faster than I have in seven years, and I keep thinking about being split wide open, and my nipples are really tender and— _oh_!”  He yelps in surprise as Gabriel sweeps him into a deep kiss. 

“You’re sure?”  Gabriel asks at last.  He’s got Cas pressed up against the tree, cradling his ass, legs around his waist, like he doesn’t dare let his omega touch the ground.   Alphas are usually phlegmatic about knocking up omegas; it’s an ordinary occurrence, bound to happen sooner or later.  Occasionally, they might deign to be proud, if the omega is bred up particularly quickly.  But they’re very rarely...excited, Cas decides.  Gabriel is excited, and pleased, and nervous.  He wants these children just as much as Cas does.

“Gabriel, I was Babymaker for seven years.  Eleven offspring,”  Cas assures him.  “I am absolutely—” he kisses the Alpha’s swollen mouth,—“without a doubt”—a kiss on his nose— “carrying your babies.”  He tightens his legs around Gabriel’s hips.  “And this time next year, after I’ve birthed them, I’ll want you to fill me up with more.”

Gabriel peppers worshipful kisses on Cas’s face and throat and shoulders.   “Babies?”

“At least two,” Cas manages between lovebites, “Can’t tell how many, exactly, but you filled me up good.”

Gabriel groans and lowers Cas's feet to the ground gently.  Then licks his way down Cas’s chest, tongues his belly-button, like he can't wait to be as close as possible to the fertilized eggs.  He freezes when something occurs to him. 

“How do you feel?  You feel okay?  Goddess, you shouldn’t be out here in your all-together….”

He snatches for the abandoned towel, bundles Cas up as though he might suddenly come down with pneumonia.

“ _Eleven_ offspring,” Cas laughs, charmed by Gabriel’s solicitousness.  “Not my first time at the rodeo.  I’ll be fine.”

“Right, yes, of course.”  Gabriel runs a hand through his hair, tugs his clothes back into place.  “But, seriously, what can I do?  I don’t know—do you need anything? You’d let me know if you needed anything?” 

“Mnn,” Cas artfully lets a fold of the towel fall away, revealing a pebbled nipple and a slice of stomach.  He’s always like this when he first gets knocked up—eager to the point of sluttishness, like his body wants to celebrate. “There is one thing…”

“Anything,” Gabriel says, instantly.

Cas blinks innocently.  “You know how I was thinking about being split wide…?”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas/Sam/Gabriel. Went there. 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who has stuck with this fic and commented; unlike "Babymaker" this one didn't start with a defined structure, so I'm kind of adding things as I go, which can take awhile. It does mean there's more room for requests, though, so comment with what you'd like to see, and I'll try to write it in.

Cas doesn’t know where the words are coming from: he’s giddy, horny, not at all as dignified as a sober high officer of the Community should be.  It must be the pregnancy. He's behaving like the sort of flighty Omega _tease_ who just asks for whatever filthy idea pops into his head. And Gabriel _likes_ it. 

Cas actually allows Gabriel to dress him, gently smoothing his leggings over his ass, petting his belly as he tugs the tunic down. 

“You look the same,” the Alpha says, marveling.

“I’ve absorbed most of what you gave me,” Cas explains, trying to remember that he's a mature adult and a breeding professional.  Goddess, was he this _wet_ last time?  “And the eggs won’t be big enough to see for awhile.  I always grow slowly.”  He hopes Gabriel won’t be disappointed:  Jensen’s still visibly bloated with cum—but, then, Jen was smaller to begin with and bred by many more Alphas.

“You’ll grow perfectly,”  Gabriel assures him.  “Getting big as our children get big.”

Cas resists the urge to grind his ass into the cock he feels thickening against him.  Now is not the time.  He starts walking through the gloaming.  He’s got to get back to check on Jensen; he’d told Sam just half an—oh, he’d almost forgotten. 

“Sam,”  Cas says, suddenly.  “He’s at the house; he came to sit with Jensen ‘til Ellen stopped by.”

“Send him home, “ Gabriel’s voice is casual but promising, “We’ll be too busy to entertain him.”

Fortunately, the house seems empty when they arrive.  The door to the Babymaker’s Room is closed and there’s a note from Ellen in the kitchen, reporting that she's taken Jensen to her house for dinner.  No doubt, Sam’s gone with them, eager to be as close to Jensen as possible.  Well, Ellen will make a good chaperone and light exercise is helpful when an omega has been as thoroughly stuffed as Jensen has.  This is the first time all week that Jensen’s done more than just stroll around the Community Commons. attended by Cas or Ellen.  He must be coming out of his heat.

Gabriel pins Cas to the table with his hips and reads the note over Cas’s shoulder.  Cas is still trying to figure out how much uninterrupted time they'll have when Gabriel peels his leggings down and spreads his asscheeks.

“Got the house to ourselves,” Gabriel rumbles, “whatever will we do?” 

Cas can’t help but shiver at the warm breath on his pucker. He tries to push back, to bring himself closer to Gabriel’s face, but Gabriel holds him tight.

Finally, carefully, Gabriel mouths him—quick, kitten-licks at first, and then longer strokes to open him.  He digs his fingers into the meat of Cas’s ass. “Goddess, haven’t done this since I was a kid,” he growls. 

Cas whines.  Of course he hasn’t: Gabriel was an Old Family Alpha, expected to use his knot for breeding.   Cas knows what that’s like— like Gabriel, Cas had played at this when he was a kid.  (One of the reasons he’d been chosen as Babymaker was because he’d never had anyone up his breeding cunt…but his other holes had been another story). Inevitably, of course, one puts away childish things: as Babymaker, he’d focused all his energies on breeding and birthing for seven years.  But he’d had another seven years after that, the traditional hiatus away from the Community, when he’d had time to experiment and discover what he liked.  And one thing he liked was rediscovering how good it felt to have a big, thick cock stretching his back channel—not to breed him, just to fill him up.  Fooling around with nascent Alphas and other little omegas after lights out in the Orphan House is nothing like being taken by a breeding Alpha.

Cas is already bucking his hips, eager for more, when Gabriel pulls away.  Cas whimpers— _more_!—and Gabriel nips his thigh sharply.

“Did you hear that?”

Cas can’t hear anything over the thump of blood in his ears and the creak of the old wooden table as he rocks against it, but Gabriel’s senses are heightened with breeding lust. 

Cas’s knees nearly give way—don't go!  need you! now!—when the Alpha steps away from him.   Seeing Gabriel move lithe and silent down the hall sends a new wave of want through Cas.  Gabriel is so careful and gentle with Cas that he forgets, sometimes, that Gabriel is a _hunter_.  Cas can’t help but trail behind, drawn by all that dangerous strength. Shaky with desire, he kicks off his leggings and follows. As they move down the hallway toward the large bedroom that makes up the back of the house, Cas thinks he can smell something a little off, a little musky.  Maybe it’s just that Jensen and all his pheromones are out of the house?  Or maybe the scent is changing now that he’s absorbed all the Alpha seed.  But…no, it’s not just the scent: now Cas can hear a faint, rhythmic squeak, a muffled sound that might be breathing or panting or….

Gabriel stops at the door.  He reaches back and draws Cas close to his side, one strong arm around his waist, palm defending his belly.  His breath tickles Cas’s ear.  “You sure Jensen’s left with Ellen?”

Cas nods, trying to focus on the question and not on the spicy scent of Alpha adrenaline.  “Ellen’s note,” he manages to say with parched lips.  Everywhere else, he’s _wet._ It must be hormones, but his whole body is simply begging for this powerful, protective Alpha to just _ravish_ him.

In one quick movement, Gabriel has turned the knob and kicked the door open.  A wave of warm, scented air washes over them and then Cas peeks under Gabriel’s shielding arm: a swath of bronzed skin, tumbled blankets, leggings tugged down one strong thigh.  And then, a fever-flushed face—Sam—blinking drunkenly.  “Jen?  ‘Zat you, Jensen?”

The Alpha boyling is _desperate_ , undone by need and his own rampant teenage hormones.   Cas goes to him, of course:  how could he do anything else when this overgrown, oversexed kid reminds him of nothing so much as Jensen at the peak of his heat?

“Sam?  Sammy?  It’s Cas,”  he approaches the bed slowly, aware of Gabriel hovering behind him.  Sam blinks dumbly.   He’s half-hard, but with any luck, Cas can talk him down before he jerks himself any farther. “Sam, sweetheart, what are you doing here?”

 Sam knows Cas—hell, it had been Cas who helped him breed Jensen the first time.  So it takes just a few moments before Cas has him soothed and slurring his story.  Evidently, Sam had hidden when Ellen came to dress Jensen and lead him out for a walk.   (“He was so big, Cas, so _round_ ,” Sam explained, sounding awed, and he must really be out of it because Jensen a week after breeding may be prettily swollen, but nothing compared to how he looks properly pregnant).  And then, overwhelmed and alone in the house, Sam had climbed into the big Babymaker bed to surround himself with the smell and proximity of his lover.  He’d tugged off his tunic—Cas finds it tangled with the bedclothes—and, from the look of it, he’d spent some time teasing his own nipples before his lust-clumsy fingers had gotten tangled in the laces of his leggings.  It must have been some inadvertent sound of frustration that Gabriel had heard from the kitchen. 

Gabriel.  Cas turns to find the older Alpha relaxed among the pillows, faintly amused at Sam’s evident desperation.   He can afford to be indulgent, Cas things smugly: he’s already bred up his omega.  Cas wants to crawl over to him and straddle the thick cock he can see through his leggings, but first things first.  Gabriel has always been a good sport about Cas’s work obligations, whether they include nursing Jensen’s offspring or calming his horny young friend.“Can I…?” he tugs at his own tunic, “Just for a minute, ‘til he’s settled.”  There won’t be milk, but just the act of suckling should bring Sam out of his heat haze.  And maybe it's the pregnancy again, but it doesn’t feel wrong, asking an Alpha for permission.

Gabriel nods,  “Lemme help.”  He eases behind Cas and pulls up his tunic, holding it bunched in one hand.  Then his big fingers pinch Cas’s right nipple and he twists so hard that Cas’s hips writhe.  Again, and again, and then he switches to the right side.  By the time Gabriel reaches out to ruffle Sam’s hair and pull him in close, Cas’s nips are reddened, bee-stung points on his flat torso.  Gabriel thumbs Sam’s bitten lower lip and then angles his head to help him latch on.  Cas trembles with the first draw, aroused all over again by watching his mate dominate a younger Alpha. 

Gabriel tips him forward an inch or two and when he’s settled again, he can feel Gabriel’s long cock against his lower back. Gabriel’s fingers smooths slick back from Cas’s cunt, wetting his other hole.  Now it’s his Alpha’s turn to ask permission.  “Here?”

“Yeeessss,”  Cas moans as he feels Gabriel push in.  He leans into Sam’s broad frame, relishing the stretch.  His back channel won’t expand around Gabe’s length as easily as the birth canal that leads to his breeding cunt, so every vein and ridge is new and intense.  Gabe’s long, elegant cock seems to go on _forever_.  Cas is gasping by the time he’s taken it all.  And then Gabriel wraps his hands around Cas’s waist, grinds deeper and whispers, “this is how I’m going to take you while you feed our children.”

Cas comes so hard he claws marks into Sam’s thickly muscled shoulder.  “Bite me,” he pants to Sam, tugging on the boy’s thick hair, “bite!” Sam, just cognizant enough to follow simple directions, sets his teeth into the swollen flesh around Cas’s nipple.  Cas feels a corresponding wetness welling in his empty cunt.  Suddenly, Sam’s jaw relaxes; his deep grunt is muffled against Cas’s chest.  Cas glances down to see Sam’s hips moving, working his magnificent cock in Gabriel’s grasping hand. 

“Wanna stay inside you—feel so good,” Gabriel kisses the nape of Cas’s neck.  “Think you can take us both?  Be split wide, just like you wanted.”

“Yesssssss,”  Cas is so aroused he can’t manage a full breath.  His words come out thin and pleading.  “Yes, please.”  He’d never imagine that Gabriel would be generous enough to share him with another Alpha. 

“He’s big,” Gabriel warns, but he’s already spreading Cas’s own little balls to show his breeding cunt to Sam.

“I know, I _know_ , I want it, _oh, please_ ,” Cas knows he's begging, but he can't make himself care, not with Gabriel holding him open with two fingers so the plump head of Sam’s cock pops into his cunt.

Cas _does_ know—Sam had knotted him once, for relief, while Jensen had been in labour—but knowing isn’t feeling.  The reality is so much more intense than any memory. Sam’s cock isn’t long, like Gabe’s; it’s a thick, heavy pile-driver attached to the relentless motor of his teen hips.  Cas wouldn’t be able to take it, not stretched as he is around Gabriel’s dick, if Gabe weren’t massaging the muscles of his hips and low back, crooning flattery into his ear.

“Fuck, he’s eager,” Gabriel murmurs, “I can feel how hard he’s working you. ’Course, you’re prob’ly the best he’s ever had.  Go on, tighten up.  Give the kid a thrill.”

“Nnn—can’t.  So.  Oh.  _Oh!_   Full.”  Cas’s pelvic muscles spasm with pleasure, he’s got someone’s big cockhead right up against his prostate, and someone else’s fingers kneading his g-spot through his belly.  Goddess, his Alphas are so powerful they’re just passing him back and forth.  His clenched toes brush the sheets but other than that, he’s simply cradled between them, letting them fill all the open places within him.  

“Gonna knot,” Sam grunts, “gonna…soon.”

“Sweet Goddess, teenagers,”  Gabriel laughs breathlessly, and snugs himself deep in Castiel so he can hold the omega’s legs wide as Sam goes short and deep.  Most Alphas don’t knot every time they fuck; it doesn't make evolutionary sense, just takes too much energy for all but the young.  But Sam is young and, given the way he's throwing his whole pelvis behind every thrust, he must still be coming off his breeding rut.  Gabriel almost thinks _he_ could get off a knot, just watching the young-buck Alpha. Cas is absolutely wailing and Gabriel spares a hand to play with his suckled tits. That should make him wet.  He’s already come, but a little extra slick won’t hurt; Gabriel can feel how deeply Sam is going, right up to Cas’s already-full uterus.

Gabe comes when Sam pops his knot.  He _has_ to: the already tight grip of Cas’s ass suddenly become a pulsing suction and Cas throws his head back, pleading for a kiss, his eyes are blown wide with lust.  It’s the most gorgeous thing Gabriel has ever seen, and that’s even before Cas’s breeding reflex kicks in.  Once it does, and Gabriel can both see the Alpha knot in Cas’s belly and feel the way Cas milks it, there’s no way he can keep his hands off.  He cups the bulge, feels the swell as Sam shudders and pumps.  He tries to test the seal where Cas’s cuntlips are tight around the base of the boy’s cock, but Sam growls and Gabe decides to let it go.  He can afford to be generous: Cas is _his_ bitch, carrying _his_ litter.  Why not let the boy have his fun?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jensen figures it out. I will probably rearrange some of the content of this chapter as I move on to others, just to make the timeline fit a little better, but the content will stay the same. I'm undecided on the number of babies, but will take suggestions in the comments section, so post what you'd like to see.

By the time Gabriel’s knot has shrunk enough to pop out, Cas is loose-hipped and relaxed.  He grunts when Gabriel leaves him, aware of a slight chill when the Alpha pulls away, but it’s only a moment before his lover is back with a warm wet cloth. He lets Gabriel manhandle him atop Sam, the boy’s overgrown knot still lodged firmly inside.  When Gabe whispers “ride him,” Cas obediently rolls his hips around Sam’s knot.

“Is he still…” Gabriel asks.

Cas nods dizzily.  “L’il bit.” Sam, Goddess love him, is virtually comatose, sprawled on his back between Cas’s legs.  He’s so young that he doesn’t know how to pace himself.  He just gives _everything_ ; he breeds so hard that he’s completely wiped out afterwards. Even so, he’s still unable to resist the demands of his Alpha biology. When Cas grinds against him, Sam’s hips snap up automatically, driving his knot deeper with a blurt of hot cum for good measure. 

“Lemme see,” Gabe is following the path of the washcloth with kisses.  “I wanna see.” 

Cas leans forward so far that the head of his softened omega cocklet taps Sam’s washboard abs.  Sam, of course, doesn’t move an inch,  though Cas feels him blindly fasten onto a nipple as soon as it's close enough.  Sam's sunk deep and the strain of pulling against the knot makes Cas's thighs shake.  Gabe runs a soothing hand along his trembling flank. 

Cas can feel Gabe’s thick Alpha finger tracing his cunt.  He’s never had an Alpha touching him where the lips are pulled tight around another Alpha’s knot.  Maybe Gabriel is thinking the same thing, because he bites Cas’s asscheek possessively and asks, “You gonna stretch this pretty to push out our kids?”

The weight of the knot low in his pelvis, Sam’s weak suckle, Gabe’s words—Cas orgasms, sudden and spontaneous. Gabe eases him through it, watches his mate’s cunt close reflexively around the young Alpha knot, sees Sam’s balls rise.  Jensen blushes like a rose when he comes, but Cas goes beautifully pale everywhere except for a hectic red that rises in his cheeks and makes his eyes freakishly blue. 

When Gabriel feels the last aftershock run through Cas’s frame, he gives the omega’s ass a final pat and crawls on to the bed so he can look up into that blue gaze.  He’s half hard because, even as Cas was riding a younger Alpha, couldn’t resist rubbing up against that squirming body.  He admires that body now: the strong shoulders, the heaving chest still more muscle than tit.  He’d be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy breeding Jensen, or breeding Jo before him. It’s not all council duty that drives him every breeding festival.  But even in the frenzy of mating, he holds back.  The new batch of Babymakers just feel so _little_ , so fragile. Gabe knows it’s un-Alpha to feel like he’s taking advantage, but he does. He never feels that way with Cas. 

“Milk him—wanna see you milk him,” Gabriel sprawls out next to Sam so he can look up at Cas mounted on the younger Alpha. He eases one hand up Cas’s thigh and uses the other to jerk his own cock.  “Pretend he’s gonna put another baby in you.”  

Cas smiles indulgently, admiring the plum-sized cockhead sliding through Gabriel’s fist, remembering how good it feels inside him.  “Gabe, he’s young, not invinci-”

Gabriel strokes Cas’s thigh with his free hand.  “Still got you knotted, hasn’t he?  I saw his balls.  He’s got more cum in him.  Milk it out for me?”

Cas reaches back—breath hitching against the pull of the knot—and Gabriel loves this about him: he’s no knot-head, willing to do something just because an Alpha tells him. He’s got to seek his own confirmation. Gabriel knows when Cas’s inquisitive fingers find Sam’s swollen balls: the Alpha next to him shifts on the bed next to him, makes a sleepy noise like he’s in a very pleasant dream. 

A lascivious smile spreads over Cas’s face. “Teenagers,” he says, fondly, angling his hips to get the pointed tip of Sam’s cock where he wants it.  And then, to Gabriel, “Race you?”

***

It’s a race Cas knows he can’t lose. Not with Gabriel laid out below him, working the deliciously long cock.   Except rare glimpses at breeding festivals, Cas has never seen an Alpha get himself off—Alphas are meant to come _inside omegas_ —and it’s arousing to see this intimate secret.  Gabriel grows pink and breathless; he digs his heels into the bedding; his hips lift and rock.  A blasphemous thought: except for his belly, all tight clenching muscles, the Alpha looks like he’s readying for birth. 

Birth.  That’s why the ache in Cas’s belly and hips seems so familiar.  But this time, it’s from the stretch of accommodating Sam’s large frame; the muscles in his thighs and ass are tiring from working himself against the knot.  Sam’s barely moving under him…he’s big, but Cas is worried that won’t be enough to trigger his breeding reflex. Cas spares a moment to remember how he’d coaxed the reflex out of Jensen during his first breeding.  In this very bed, with this very Alpha.  Cas closes his eyes, leans back, lets the pull of Sam’s big knot settle deep.  He listens to Gabriel’s grunts and runs his hands over his own body: the hips spread so wide over Sam’s, the slightly-swollen belly, his button-hard nipples.  He hears Gabe groan and knows his mate is watching, so he teases his tits a little.  Jensen’s nipples only get sensitive when he’s broody, but Cas’s are tender all the time.  He lets one hand trail down again to his belly where he traces the firmness of Sam’s knot still lodged above his pelvic bone.  As he does, he feels a twitch inside him: Sam responding at last, the point of his knotted dick nudging Cas’s womb.  _Yes_ , some animal instinct flames under his skin: _that’s where he needs it_.  Cas’s hips roll unconsciously…and then surge forward into the rough grip around his cock.  His eyes open, focus on Gabriel's hand jerking his little cock in time with the punishing grip he has on his own larger cock.  Gabriel’s hand, angled so that his clit rubs against Sam’s smooth belly.  Cas _rides_ it. Grinds his sensitive cervix against the soft pointed cock splitting him .  He feels Sam beginning to move, then is distracted by the hot splash of Gabe’s spunk against his thigh: his mate coming, shaking, beautiful

Evidently when Gabriel brings himself off, he gets as skin hungry after orgasm as Jensen.   He’s clumsy and shaking when he plasters himself against Cas’s side, but Cas clings to his broad back as Sam’s awakened hips buck into him.

“Is he fucking you good?” Gabe pants, palming Cas’s belly to feel the knot.  “All big inside you?”

“Yes, yes, yes,"  Cas can barely breathe, feeling the punch of his uterus beginning to contract, drawing the spunk out of Sam.  He remembers Sam in this bed, once before, begging to be allowed to breed Cas the way he’d bred Jensen.  Sam has a high spunk volume, even for an Alpha, and Cas can feel each gush.  _Pretend he’s gonna put another baby in you_ , Gabriel had said, and Cas doesn’t think it’s a question of pretending.

*** 

Soon it is plain to see: Jensen’s pregnant, probably very pregnant.  Cas had heard it said of female Babymakers, but it’s most true of Jensen.  The boy simply _blossoms_ with fertility.  He carries high this time, so his growing belly shows off his slim hips.  His thighs are sculpted by the bowlegged gait that supports the firm roundness; there’s a distinct triangle where his back folds into the muscled globes of his ass.  Cas had made sure that his chest had been stimulated regularly even after the offspring were rehoused and it’s helped.  During his first pregnancy, Jensen’s tits had developed with painful slowness.  This time, they keep pace with his burgeoning stomach—at three months, each one is a dense handful of soft flesh, enough to jiggle when he gets fucked; by six months, Cas is expecting milk-producing _mounds_.  Cas measures the aureole to document it in the breeding logs: two inch diameter, a rich dark brown against the pale, blue-veined caramel of Jensen’s breasts. 

Despite his steadily swelling body, Jensen retains his youthful flexibility: up until his fourth month, he can be fucked on his back, his heels hitched onto Sam’s collarbones, moaning on particularly deep strokes.  Cas finds him like that on the morning of his Presentation before the Council and has to wait twenty minutes until Sam can disengage.   Only then can he truss the beautifully pliant omega into his pale green breeding gown.

 A virgin omega, pregnant for the first time, tends to grow big _fast_.  Jensen’s belly had been practically obscene at his first Presentation.  This time, the measurements in his breeding book indicate that he’s following a more mature pattern: a modest, almost subtle pouch of a belly for the first two months, then a sudden expansion that gradually plateaus until another growth spurt, and so on throughout the seven or eight months of carrying young.  Cas had planned for this when he’d sent the measurements for the breeding gown to the costumers, but he must have miscalculated.  The gown that had fluttered loosely on the day of the breeding festival, making Jensen look delicate and young, should have enough extra yardage to fit him for another few months.  But Jensen nearly bursts the seams of the bodice and the fabric is stretched to tightly across his belly that Cas can practically see the old cluster of stretch-marks on his hip.   

Cas flips back a few pages in the breeding book.  In addition to being the Babymaker, Jensen’s a growing teenager.  He sprouted up a few inches since his first breeding and it would be natural if the rest of him had kept pace…  Cas stares at the numbers, pulls out his measuring tape to double-check (“Tickles,” Jensen complains sleepily when it crosses his shallow belly button, almost ready to pop.)  Huh.  It hadn’t been so noticeable on a larger frame, but Jensen is bigger than he was four months into his last pregnancy, even accounting for the extra year of growth.  And last time, he’d had _three_ offspring stuffed into his omega womb.

Cas raises the question gently, casually, as he begins to paint the ritual sigils around Jensen’s tight nipples.  “So, how many do you think you have in there?  Same as last time?”

“Hmm…”  Jensen runs a hand thoughtfully over the curve of his stomach, as though he’s consulting the offspring inside.  “No; more. More than last time, I think.”

Cas raises his eyebrows: he’d expected Jensen to under-estimate.  After all, last time the boy had been convinced for months that he’d been carrying just one large baby.  But it’s notoriously hard to tell how many offspring an omega is carrying—that’s one of the reasons the Presentation ceremony is so important.  Moreover, Jensen’s not very experienced.  Cas's surprise is fading, and then Jensen says something that shocks him so much he drops the paintbrush:

“How about you?”

Cas rocks back on his heels.  “What?” He stares up at the boy seated in front of him, at the big Buddha belly and the gaping gown, one half-painted tit peeking out. 

Jensen lifts one delicate foot and nudges at Cas’s midsection.  “You’re wearing your tunics looser, and Sam mentioned… I’m right, aren’t I?”

Cas's hands come up automatically to protect his stomach against even Jensen’s gentle toes, which is all the answer Jen needs. 

The little omega beams and then, flushing shyly, he asks, “Can I…see?”

It’s almost impossible to deny Jensen anything when he’s glancing up through his lashes like that and, really, Cas sees no reason to object.  He is the Keeper and Jensen is Babymaker: they have no secrets.  He glances quickly at the door to make sure none of the Council-members have arrived early for the Presentation, then pulls up his tunic.

The wonder and delight that flash across Jensen’s face remind Cas that the only pregnant omegas he’s ever seen outside the frame of a mirror have been drawings in old breeding books.  He slips out of his chair and kneels awestruck in front of Cas. 

“Can I…?” he asks again, low and husky.

Cas nods and Jensen puts his palm on the lower swell of Cas’s belly, strokes through the sparse dark hair that trails down toward his leggings. 

“It’s so tight and, and...cute!”  Jen whispers finally, and Cas has to smile.  As Babymaker, he was pregnant seven times in a row: his body knows the routine, swells gently in the early months and then blooms huge toward the end.  His belly is firm and heavy, but on his bigger, older body, it’s still small compared to Jensen’s.  That’s how he’s gotten away with hiding under ever-looser tunics and winter clothing.  Won’t work for much longer: nude, he’s visibly quite pregnant, as a worshipful Gabriel will testify.  Plus, Cas can feel a tightness in the small of his back that signals a growth spurt in the next week or so. 

Cas is wondering what Sam had ‘mentioned’—kid’s had his cock inside a pregnant omega with some frequency, and could he possibly have noticed something, that one time with Gabriel?--when Jensen ducks down and presses a kiss to the taut skin of Cas’s belly. 

It’s a big, wet, open-mouthed, sucking kiss that covers as much sensitive skin as possible and Cas’s hand comes down instinctively to curl around the nape of Jensen’s neck, holding him there.  Cas can feel the kid smile and—of course he knows how sensitive that skin is, he knows what kind of touch a carrying omega craves.  During his hiatus, those years of sexual experimentation far from the Community, Cas had enjoyed a lot of betas and more than a few Alphas, but there had been just one omega that he remembers.  A slender, blue-eyed boy with supple hips and a pretty, pierced clit.  The boy had known from his own body just how to touch and please, but he’d never been bred up (part of the attraction had been his shameless fascination with Cas’s stretch-marks and the elasticity of his cunt). In other words, he didn’t know what Jensen knows about omega anatomy. 

Cas is gripping Jensen’s hair as the boy’s tongue flickers in and out of his belly-button— _fucking_ him there—and Cas is thinking that such a thing would _never_ occur to an Alpha…when they both hear a distant door open. 

“Cas?  I’m having the workmen set up the breeding throne.  Do you mind?”  Ellen calls from the front of the house.

Cas clears his throat, but he thinks his voice still sounds strained when he shouts back.  “Wonderful.  Thanks.  I’ll be out to supervise in a moment.”

When he returns his attention to Jensen, the young omega is back in his chair, tits tucked neatly away, as serene as one of the carvings of the Goddess in the Community temple.  Except for the obvious outline of his thickened cock visible in the green fabric pouch he wears between his legs under his gown.

“You never answered my question,” he says, blinking innocently.

All Cas can manage is, “Huh?”

 “My question.  I asked if you thought you were carrying more than your last time.”

Cas can barely remember the conversation, his brain having been hijacked by the fact that he has months ahead of him to pleasure a pregnant omega and be pleasured in return.  In his last cycle as Babymaker, he’d birthed breech twins, both over twelve pounds, at least one of whom he was sure had been planted by Sam’s father, the Council chief John Winchester.  They’d been big babies, but he thought…”

Yeah,” Cas's mouth is dry with adrenaline and arousal.  “Yes, I think I’m gonna be bigger this time around.”


	6. Chapter 6

“Five?!  Are you s—I mean, he’s big, but… _five_?” Cas questions Ellen as she packs her supplies after the Presentation ceremony.

The midwife nods.  “Now, I’m not saying he was knocked up by five different Alphas.  The offspring aren’t _that_ big.  Maybe triplets and a set of twins? Two sets of twins and a singleton? You know multiples are smaller. But the Presentation was valid.  Jensen’s carrying five babies.”

“Goddess!” is all Cas can manage to say.  He’s mentally reviewing all the breeding books, all the historical records he’s studied as Keeper.  He can’t remember another Babymaker in recent history who’d carried quints.  Cas himself had birthed a few sets of large twins.  Once, there’d been a clutch of triplets, each baby ten or twelve pounds, which had been _quite_ enough, thanks very much. The later generation of Alphas—John, after he’d become Head of Council, Gabriel upon reaching maturity—had been more prolific.  Jo, the female Babymaker they’d bred during the seven years of Cas’s hiatus, had carried quadruplets, twice.  As a male omega, Jensen’s got a bigger body (broader shoulders, hipbones that are narrower, but heavier) and, biologically, he produces more eggs than a female.  But, still, Cas can’t remember a Babymaker in recent memory who’d been bred so fully.    

Ellen doesn’t seem quite so impressed.  “It’s unusual, but not unprecedented.  He did have triplets his very first time out.  John’s just picked himself a very fertile omega when he named Jensen the Babymaker.”

“He was broken,” Cas adds, not quite sure how much detail it’s appropriate to share.  After all, the midwife’s job has more to do with the babies than their breeding.  “During the festival, one of the Alphas made it into his womb.” He doesn’t mention names, or that there were probably _two_ Alphas.

 _Now_ , Ellen looks a little surprised. “Well, that would explain it.  Deep penetration like that usually guarantees twins, at least.”  She sighs.  “Oh, well, we waited as long as we could between breedings.  Poor kid was so frustrated, he would've gnawed his arm off if we’d waited longer.  Nothing to be done for it:  he’s just young.  Who knew he’d breed up so well the first time?”  

Cas knows what Ellen is getting at. Jensen is at the younger end of the scale for Babymakers, although not abnormally so.  To find a virgin omega in the Community, you have to start young. Most new breeders his age push out a few singletons, maybe a set of twins in their third or fourth cycle.  By the time they’re carrying larger broods, they are accustomed to the rigors of breeding, so they’re less likely to succumb so completely to an Alpha cock.   That’s one reason womb-breaking is so rare. Only, Jensen’s body (elastic, young, recently delivered of a larger brood, melting with heat) had just opened itself right up and let those Alphas into his very core.  Cas feels an answering twinge inside his own body, brings his hand up to smooth his tunic over his belly.  Thinking of the night of Jensen’s breeding is arousing him. 

Maybe Ellen notices.  “How about you? How are you feeling?”

“I—uh, good,” Cas says.  He won’t deny it. “Really good.”  It’s true.  He’s always loved being pregnant almost as much as he’d enjoyed _getting_ pregnant, but the last few cycles of his Babymaker years had been a little tiring.  He’d begun to feel like a brood-sow, constantly full, back aching, tits always leaking, trailing a string of slavering Alphas who just wanted to get between his thighs.  Working with Jensen, seeing the whole process through virgin eyes, had reminded him how magical it is to grow big with life.  After the hiatus, coming back to pregnancy is like coming home after a long trip: novel but familiar, all excitement and no anxiety.  He’s older now, but he has more energy than he’d had in his last pregnancy.  His body feels deeply _right_ ; he’s doing what he’s made for.  And these are not anonymous offspring loaned to him by the Alphas of the Community.  Gabe cherishes Cas’s belly, and the babies inside it.  Cherishes all of him.

“Quickened?”  That’s Ellen’s subtle way of asking how far along Cas is.  Surely she must suspect he got knocked up at the breeding festival.  Many omegas do, not just the Babymaker.

“Just last week. No milk yet, but I know it’s…I can… feel it coming.” Cas finally feels himself beginning to blush.  He wonders if Elle has reviewed his breeding records.  Maybe she knows, as he does, that his milk tends to come in early, usually accompanied by a substantial growth spurt and an insatiable desire to be fucked.  Roughly. For _hours_.

“Would you like me to…?” 

Ellen trails off so delicately that Cas doesn’t feel bad saying, “No, thanks.  I’ve got a couple in there.  That’s all I need to know for now.”  Cas is a private citizen now so, unlike the Babymaker, he doesn’t have to subject himself to public rituals and examinations to determine how many babies he's carrying.  He and Gabriel have decided to keep the pregnancy quiet.  Besides, while he knows that Ellen is just offering to count his offspring the way she’d counted Jensen’s, Cas has the sudden, unreasonable suspicion that, in addition to their number, she’ll somehow know their parentage.  Of course, it’s entirely possible that Jensen was bred up with five babies on the night of the breeding festival.  But omegas in heat stay fertile for days, so it’s also possible that the last egg or two was fertilized _after_ the height of the breeding (that last little Alpha, Ben, or Sam’s leisurely rocking the next day).  And that reminds Cas about how he himself had ridden Sam nearly unconscious at the end of his own fertile window.  Maybe it’s just the sluttishness that always comes with pregnancy hormones, or the early burn of his incipient milk, but Cas is both ashamed and excited by the secret knowledge that he may be carrying the offspring of two different Alphas.

 **B** eing a beta, Ellen can’t carry children of her own, but she smiles like she somehow understands completely. “Well, offer’s good anytime.  Look, I know Sam and them’ll be leaving for their hunting trip soon, so I’ll bring the weighted eggs over tomorrow.  You’ll want to start soon.  Big as he is, there’s no way he’ll carry to eight months.”

 ***

The weighted eggs are just what they sound like: a crate of ten carved eggs, mostly smooth polished stone, but a few engraved with patterns.  The smallest is the size of a chicken's egg, but some are big as oranges, and others bigger still. The largest is tear-drop-shaped like the rest, but six inches around at its largest point.  It sits in the palm of Cas’s hand with solid promise, heavier than it looks. 

“You can use them in whichever combination Jen’ll tolerate,”  Ellen explains. “But start small and expect him to fight you a little.  He’s tight and used to a knot; his body’ll want to reject the stone.”

“It won’t…?” Cas starts, finding it impossible to believe that Ellen would suggest anything that would _harm_ Jensen.

“Of course not!  He won’t want it, but he’ll need it.  Like…do you remember the injections?”  Ellen asks, referring to the fluid she’d injected into Jensen’s tits during his first pregnancy. 

Cas nods.  The injections had hurt, but so had Jensen’s under-developed little titties, unable to keep pace with his newly-pregnant form.  Cas and Sam had gentled him through the treatment.  This time, it’s up to Cas alone.   Alphas hunt for meat in the spring and summer and fall; in the dark winter, when all living things should be hunkered down for warmth, they hunt for evil.  The Council waited only long enough for Jensen’s Presentation ceremony.  Once they are assured that the Goddess has favored them with a fecund Babymaker, they make their preparations and leave for the hunt.  Gabriel spends the night after the Presentation in the Keeper’s narrow bed, slowly screwing its occupant into delirium.  He leaves in the early dawn darkness, after pressing a dozen hot kisses onto Cas’s belly.

Sam goes, too, as he must: schoolboy no longer, he has now lain twice with the Babymaker and is fully an Alpha, not to mention the son of the Head of Council.  Jensen mopes for days.  Once, Cas returns from market and peeks into his room to see him tangled with that young Alpha, Ben, but it must be unsatisfactory, because Jen never mentions it.  Cas begins to grow in earnest, and just when his belly has become unmistakable, his milk comes in.  The ticklish itch is maddening and Cas holds out for barely a day.  When he sees Jensen wander aimlessly in from the courtyard, he calls the boy into the kitchen.

“Yeah?” Jensen stands in the doorway, freeing himself listlessly from the layers of handknitted woollens Cas makes him wear outdoors.

“I said, come _here_.” Cas leans against the big wooden table and tugs open the laces of his tunic.  Jensen’s cheek and nose are cold as he roots a moment for the nipple but then his mouth…oh, his mouth is warmth itself.  The suckle is stronger than any infant’s and Jensen grunts, greedily, and nuzzles deeper when Cas’s milk finally lets down.  Cas has to hold the boy at an angle, tucked up against his side.  _We’re getting so big_ , he thinks, curling his hand around Jensen’s neck.

“Got something for you,”

“S’good,” Jensen manages, before latching on to Cas’s other tit hard enough to make the older omega gasp.

“Nnn…no, not my—ugh, Goddess, yesss, _there_!—No, I mean somethin’ from Ellen.  To help w’th’babies.”

That’s a slip, Cas registers distantly, distracted by the sweet, steady pull of Jensen’s lips.  He tries to refer to the many occupants of Jensen’s womb as the Offspring, to keep the kid from getting too attached. But—holy, Goddess, the _mouth_ on him. 

When Cas has been thoroughly drained, he persuades Jensen into the Babymaker’s bedroom, where he’d had one of the Beta houseboys light a fire.  The room is now soothingly warm and Jensen, sated with milk, follows Cas’s directions to shed his leggings and get onto the bed.  Cas eases him onto his hands and knees, props a pillow under his head, gives his hanging belly a pat.  He’s had a few of the eggs warming in a bath of gelatinous liquid meant to work like artificial slick, but he’s kept one of the small ones out and now he slips in into Jensen’s hand.

“Ellen sent these over.  She says if you practice carrying them, it’ll strengthen your muscles.  That way you’ll be able to hold your babies inside longer.”

Jensen turns the egg in his hand like an oversized worry stone. It's midnight blue and carved with a tracery of leaves and flowers.  “Not sure keepin’ ‘em _in_ will be a problem.”

It’s true: Jensen had carried his last brood well beyond his due date.  He’d had to be induced and he probably would be again.  No denying: the kid’s body _liked_ being full. 

“Well, you’ll have to push the eggs out and that’ll help with the birthing, whenever it happens.”  Cas is already fondling Jensen’s balls, but he waits for the boy to sigh and spread a little wider before he runs his thumb along the hairless cunt in his perineum.  The little omega looks almost virginal here, not big enough for a knot, never mind a baby.  Cas’s cuntlips are thick and meaty; Gabriel swears that he fantasizes about them when he’s away on hunts.  But it’s just another of the contradictions that have become apparent as Jensen has grown: strong thighs, but trim little hips; broad shoulders with perky upturned tits; low-hanging balls suitable for an Alpha and then, right behind them, a demure, shell-pink gash.

 Jensen takes one of Cas’s fingers easily enough, and then a second. He’s smooth and hot inside—slick, but not dripping the way he is when he is ready to be bred.  He’s closed his eyes, dark lashes against flushed cheeks, and his tongue peeks out every now and then to wet his lips.  He’s dropped the egg in the bedclothes; that hand is occupied with pulling at his nipples. He’s rocking his hips, pushing back on Cas’s fingers so subtly that Cas isn’t sure he even knows he’s doing it.  His cock is hanging between his thighs, half-hard.

All of that changes, though, once Cas brings the first slick egg against Jensen’s cunt.  The body fights him, just as Ellen said it would.  Jensen wriggles up the bed until Cas wraps one arm firmly around his left leg.  Then, although he still pushes eagerly against Cas’s fingers, his legs snap closed whenever Cas even touches the cool marble to his lips.  Even when Cas gets his shoulder wedged between the boy’s thighs (Goddess, he’s wet and fragrant—why is he so resistant?), his cunt muscles are so tight that Cas can hardly believe the kid’s been bred by Alphas, never mind birthed their offspring. 

“Stop! Stop,” Cas says finally, sitting up and releasing the struggling Babymaker.  He’s slightly winded—at this angle, his own full womb pushes up against his lungs—and he’s not going to fight Jensen over this.  The boy is sweet but strong-willed, and sometimes it seems like his body has a mind of its own.

 Jen’s cheeks are flushed and tear-stained when peeks over his shoulder.  His cock is still thickened. “I _want_ to…I do!  I just—can’t.  I think about, about _it_ being so close to the offspring, and I know you said it wouldn’t hurt them, and I trust Ellen, but I just _can’t._ ” he finishes, miserably.

“Mmm.”  Cas strokes his back soothingly, tugs him into an embrace.  The weight of Jensen’s belly pulls his back into a slight curve, just enough for Cas to fit himself against.  The kid’s taut skin is smooth, no knees or elbows, the offspring quiescent and undisturbed by their carrier’s anxiety.  It really is all in Jensen’s head.  He nuzzles Jen’s throat, tastes how his pulse is starting to slow toward normal rates.  “Would it make you feel more comfortable if I did it first?”


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story is kind of winding down, I think. If there's anything you'd like to see before I wind it up, get commenting!

Cas selects one of the larger mid-sized eggs.  It is pale green, veined with silver, and fills his palm like a good-sized grapefruit.  He’s bigger than Jensen, and he has (as he frequently likes to remind Gabriel when the Alpha fusses) a _lot_ more birthing experience.  No point in shaming the boy by swallowing down one of the little eggs right away.  No, Cas is prepared to struggle a little,  to show how birthing is sometimes a question of mind over matter, a case of persuading your body to do more than it thinks it can do.  Besides, it’s been too long since Gabriel left to hunt with the other Alphas.  Cas is so ready to be stretched that he found himself eyeing that young Alpha, Bennie, at the market the other day.

Cas slips this new egg into the bowl of thick slick.  Jensen, still kneeling nude on the bed, takes the whole thing as though he’s being handed some sort of religious object.  Cas doesn’t disabuse him, but he’s matter-of-fact as he shucks off his leggings and lays down on his back, brings his heels to his ass and lets his legs fall open.  He’s always preferred to birth like this—working against gravity makes the push and stretch _delicious_ —and he imagines this will be similar. “Gimme minute,” he grunts, and Jensen nods quickly, wide-eyed and obedient.  Cas lets his eyes drift shut as he pulls open the lacing of his tunic.  He hadn’t bothered putting his halter back on after Jensen had drunk in the kitchens, so his nipples harden instantly against the air.  It’s almost painful;  he's said it before, and he'll say it again: Goddess, but that boy has a _mouth_.  Distantly, Cas hears a little hungry sound escape from Jensen, but he ignores it and lets his hands drift further.  He pretends they’re Gabriel’s, remembers how his Alpha’s big paws explore him, curious and eager but gentle.  He’s grown bigger in just the past few days since his milk came in. His skin is still tingling and sensitive, his hips newly weighted. Inside his children are quiet, as they often are in the early afternoon.  Cas is pretty sure his initial assumption was right: there are at least two.  One is big and active—Cas is just beginning to feel him kick regularly;  another likes to settle low and heavy, so heavy that Cas still isn’t sure if there’s a third baby or not, Gabriel’s or not.  Cas traces his fingers along his straining thighs.  Could there possibly be four?

“You’re getting…” Jensen starts, then trails off, unsure if he should speak. 

Cas plays his fingers along his hardening cock for a moment before he opens his eyes and looks over the mountain of his belly to where Jensen is kneeling on the bed.  Jen’s lower half is obscured by Cas’s own roundness.  Without the belly, Jensen looks even more erotically hermaphrodite: broad, sculpted shoulders shading into pretty teenaged tits just starting to really engorge.

“Mm-hmm,” Cas drags his mind back to the pleasures at hand.  “But I don’t usually stay hard, not when I’m pregnant.  Never have.  So don’t be upset if it…”

“Yeah, okay,” Jensen speaks quickly, like he’s afraid of running out of air. 

And Cas figures the time for conversation has passed, so he reaches around his belly, lifts his thickened cock and balls, and shows the boy his cunt.

Jensen’s fingers are long and careful, one fingertip tracing Cas’s lips with teasing gentleness. “Can I…? before the egg, I mean.  I’ve never—“  Jen seems incapable of  even articulating a full sentence.

“Sure,” Cas agrees. He can feel his balls tightening, pulling up involuntarily.   “Won’t touch much—I’m deep, but go ‘head.” 

One finger.  Two.  Cas tries to be patient.

“You’re so tight!” Jensen’s whisper is genuinely astonished.

“Not compared to you!” Cas chuckles at his innocence.  “Haven’t you ever had your dick in an omega before?”

Jensen’s startled hazel eyes jump suddenly, meeting Cas’s.  “Fingers.  But not a...no.”

Cas should conceal his surprise, but he’s so relaxed and open that he can’t: “Really?!  A beta, then?”  Jensen’s expression answers better than words. “Not even, you know, just playing around in the Orphan House?” 

Jen has a nice set of balls and a good cock, easily six or seven inches when it’s hard.  And thick.  It’s impressive enough even under a pregnant belly that Cas has wondered which Alpha sired him.  On a stubborn, skinny little omega, like Jensen had been when Cas had first started training him up as Babymaker, it would’ve been irresistible in the bunkrooms of the Orphan House.  Especially since, as an omega, he wouldn’t have been sowing any babies.  _All fun and no profit_ , as they’d used to say when Cas had lived with the orphans.  He’d known the kid had been a registered virgin when he’d left the Orphan House—but that just meant no one had been inside him, not the other way around.

Jensen is actually blushing.  “No, I never…I mean, I fooled around, just never that far.  ‘Been wondering if I should’ve, if that’s why I get, uh.  Hard all time time.”

It’s true that most pregnant omegas (Cas included) lose the ability to maintain a long erection, where Jensen not only gets and stays hard, he also ejaculates—not just during the orgasmic births that are common among omegas, but throughout his entire pregnancy.  Could it be ‘cause he hadn’t gotten that out of his system as a young omega?  Or was it just because, as Cas has always suspected, the lineage of the Alpha who had sired him ran particularly strongly through him?

“Better get that egg, b’fore the slick cools,” Cas suggests.  Really, he is feeling too good to be trying to solve these kinds of things now.  Keeper or not, he can’t be on the clock all the time. There’s gotta be a record of Jensen’s parentage somewhere; he’ll look it up.  Later.  “You ‘n Sam ever…?” Alphas don’t have cunts, of course, but sometimes they’ll take it up the ass, for the right omega.  Sam would, Cas thinks.  For Jensen.

“No.”  Jensen lifts the egg out of the slick, cradles it against his tits as he knee-walks back across the mattress.  it looks bigger in his delicate hand.  “He offered once or twice, but I like him in me, and usually I’m too big to do it, anyway.”

The egg is wet and warm against Cas’s cuntlips, warm from the slick and from Jensen’s body.  Jen’s fingers are working around his rim, holding him open with one hand and lightly rocking the egg against him with the other.  The boy’s eyebrows are drawn together, his eyes riveted between Cas’s legs, an erotic picture of concentration, ignorant of the way his tits are pressed together when both his hands are occupied. Cas can feel the gently pointed end opening him.  He’d never needed egg treatments when he’d been Babymaker: bigger than Jen, and with smaller broods, he’d gone into labor as regular as a clock, pushed out each baby on a wave of pleasure and then laid back, ready to be bred up again.  He wonders what the egg will feel like inside.  Will the point nestle against his cervix, like the point of Gabe’s long cock? Will the stone settle low in his hips, like his quietest child?   He takes a deep breath, lets it out, another, another.  He wills himself open.

***

Taking the egg is a process, longer and harder than Cas had expected.  Pleasurable, but bruising.  Cas remembers how it had felt suddenly taking Gabriel’s knot to be impregnated:  like birth in reverse. In a curious way, without the daze of hormones that accompanies omega breeding and births, this is almost more intense.  He was wrong to underestimate Ellen on this.   The first easing is quick and then his body realizes that this is no knot, and tries to clamp down, to push the intruder out.  A male omega body is, of course, engineered to push, even more effectively than a females—narrower hips, stronger core, tightly muscled birth canal—but it’s also conditioned to enjoy being opened.  So Cas is aware of both fighting against the firm, insistent pressure of the stone in Jensen’s hands and craving it.  He huffs and puffs, gasps as his manage another inch. Jensen croons the same sweet things Cas had muttered to him during his birthing (“yes, oh, good, so strong, just a li’l more, play with your tits a bit, good boy”).  His cock goes limp and Jensen—both hands being occupied—ducks down to suckle its helmet.  It’s so good that Cas’s hips jump and the egg slides deeper and then, just as suddenly, it’s too _much_ and Cas is whimpering and trying to squirm away. Cas is distantly conscious of the deep animal grunts that he makes as Jensen nudges the egg a little deeper, deeper still. 

A pause.  Jensen’s beautiful, slick hands soothe along Cas’s belly and the egg stays in without them.  “It’s halfway in, Cas.  Maybe a little more.  Cas?  Can you hear me?” 

Cas grunts again.

“You’re spread so wide—it’s beaut-I wish you could see.  D’ you,” Jensen hesitates, “do you want to stop now?”

Cas has been pulling his nipples in time with each nudge of the egg.  His hand is milk-wet as he slides it between his thighs.  Carefully: he can’t bear for even a breath on his raw clit.  He cups the protruding round of the egg, lets him thumb circumscribe the frilled lips of his cunt stretched around it. When he pushes, he can feel the resistance of his pelvis, how deeply and solidly the other end is sunk into him.  “Nnn,” Cas manages, shaking his head.   

At some point, he thinks he rolls onto his knees, convinced he needs to be in the breeding position to take something so huge.  He’s so full he must be being bred.  He’s big and clumsy and he suspects he nearly kicks Jensen in the head.  The egg goes in easier like this (he can hear himself moaning, high and sweet as a virgin) but then his body decides it really should push.  The contractions aren’t serious—his body knows it’s not time for the babies in his womb—but he has to go onto his back. 

“Suck me,” he pants when he flops against the pillow.  And Jensen does, nuzzles right down and takes most of Cas’s left tit into his mouth.  The young omega stays on his hands and knees over Cas, one thigh firmly wedged against the egg so Cas can work it in deeper by hunching his hips, breathing deep and bearing down.  Cas hooks one leg around Jensen’s waist. If it weren’t for their big bellies, they could be fucking.  As it is, they’re so close Jensen can feel Cas’s abdomen tightening with each contraction, and he bets Cas can feel Jensen’s offspring squirming in his tight womb, the way they always do when he gets excited. Suddenly, Cas’s hand claws across Jensen’s shoulder. “Oh— _oh_ , it’s in,”  Cas tosses his head against the pillows.  “Gemme ‘nother.  While’m still op’n.”

Jensen abandons Cas’s still-leaking tit to fumble among the bedclothes until he finds the small egg he’d been holding earlier.  Cas _is_ open, the gash of his cunt as ripe and pink as watermelon under his softened cock.  The little egg goes in easily, just a few careful breaths and a moment of moaning at its widest point.  When it does, Cas sags into the bedclothes, sweat-soaked and disheveled.  Jensen curls up next to him.  He’d come while Cas had struggled in the breeding posture; now he’s skin-starved and just wants to cuddle. 

“’S’harder’n it looks,”  Cas mumbles, “maybe’m jus’ gettin’ old.” 

“Never,” Jensen announces, loyally.  Right now, with his damp hair mussed and his cheeks and chest flushed a sweet pink, Cas would be a temptation for anyone. 

“So…ya learn anythin’, li’l one?”

Jensen smiles.  Cas hasn’t called him little one since he’d birthed his first offspring, probably feeling that it was no longer appropriate for a full-fledged Babymaker.  Jen had missed it.  “Guess we’ll see tomorrow, right?”


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Cas vs. the egg

Cas wakes several hours later, his tits so hard they stand out from his chest.  He forgets about the eggs until he rolls toward Jensen’s sleeping warmth; then he feels them shift inside him and his tits overflow.  He runs his thumb across Jensen’s plush mouth and the kid obligingly sucks it in.  His long, dark lashes flutter, but after a momentary suckle, his mouth goes soft again and he curls back to sleep around his swollen belly.  He sleeps deeply these days, his young body tired by the weight of his pregnancy, and still growing.  Cas suspects the boy is about to hit another growth spurt when his milk comes in.  It’s not worth waking him, Cas decides. But just the thought of the boy’s mouth reminds him that he’s leaking, so he slides out of bed. 

The sudden, erotic weight of the egg—two eggs, Cas remembers suddenly, almost ashamed of his greed—nearly bring him to his knees.  Cas grabs the mattress with one hand and cradles his belly with the other as he adjusts to the new center of gravity.  It as though he’s suddenly had an extra baby put into him in his sixth month, one that hangs heavy and low in his pelvis.  His cunt throbs.

He must make a sound because Jensen stirs.

“Cas…?”  he mutters, sleepily stroking his own stomach.

“Nothing,” Cas gasps, “Just gotta. Uhm, milk.  More milk.”

“Again?” Jensen’s forehead creases.  He looks like an over-tired toddler, put out that he hadn’t managed to drain Cas last time. 

“Don’t worry about it,”  whispers Cas.  “Go back to sleep.” 

Cas waits by the large bed for a few moments, until he sees Jensen relax back into sleep, and then he slowly shuffles his way out of the room.  Each step makes him newly aware of his tight, stuffed womb and the new weight below it.  He struggles into the spare room where the milking machine is set up.  He’s too eager to properly set it up, just drops into the low chaise longue and presses the milking cups to his chest.  He whimpers with relief when the machine’s suction starts to drain the milk from his tits.  He fumbles with the controls, turning them higher until he reaches something that approximates Jensen’s strong suckle.  Only then can he relax.

Cas slumps into the chair.  Goddess, had he produced this much milk this quickly when he’d been impregnated as Babymaker?  From the dim light, he figures it’s only been a few hours since Jensen had fed from him in the kitchen, but he’s already so full it hurts. Maybe it’s the residual hormones from being a milk surrogate, or maybe it’s got something to do with his body reacting to the eggs.  Omega bodies are highly sensual—if he _feels_ bigger, more pregnant, his body might well respond by producing more milk. And suddenly, no sooner has the second thought popped into his head than Cas is seized with the sudden, overwhelming desire to push.

Cash pushes.  He _needs_ to.  His back is arching up even before he’s registered that it’s not a true contraction.  His womb is tightening, yes, but it’s keeping his babies _in_ , not urging them _out_. It is the birth canal that’s doing all the work: a split second after his uterus constricts, the muscles below it start clenching and releasing rhythmically to ease the egg against his cunt from the inside.  Two of these false contractions and the urge passes as quickly as it came.  Cas sags, dizzy and gasping so hard he almost dislodges the milker. He barely catches his breath when he has to push again. Fuck!  He’s never felt quite like this before.  It’s like being in heat—he has no control over his body: his abdomen tightens without any conscious thought, because some primal part of him needs to be _open_.  But at the same time, it isn’t anything at all like being in heat; heats are fuzzy and wobbly and hard to remember afterwards.  But this…he can feel everything: a baby kick against his contracted womb; the spasm in his back right before his insides push; the big egg shifting deeper when his hips roll; the sparkle of the little egg against his prostate, like an Alpha’s knot in his cunt.

The second wave has Cas nearly slithering off the chair, but he knows there will be a third.  And there is.  He holds the push longer this time, rides it out, and just before he has to collapse back onto the cushions, his searching fingers slip between his cuntlips and he feels the hard shell of the egg.  The next time, he pushes until he feels his cunt burn, then circles his hips until he works the egg free.  He hears it thump onto a cushion, clatter onto the floor.  He thinks of searching for it, but he’s exhausted, wrung out.  It takes all his energy to undo the milking cups.  When the cool night air licks his nips, Cas feel his cunt get wet.  He knows he’s probably gaping, but he’s asleep before he can really care.

 ~~~~~

Cas wakes to a dull ache in his low back and this time it only takes him a moment to remember what that means. When he strokes his belly, he hardly has to push to feel the firm curve of the second egg—the big egg—low in his pelvis, between his hips.  It’s slipped as his muscles have relaxed in sleep and it slips further when he stumbles to his feet.  He is aware of it with every step he takes: out of the milking room; down the long hallway; pausing to peek at a sleeping Jensen, sprawled out round and golden in the lamplight of the Babymaker’s room.  Then back down the hallway.  This is the therapeutic part that Ellen had mentioned: carrying the weight of the egg will strengthen the birth canal and the pelvic floor.  It is too early for breakfast, so Cas tidies the milking room by sorting out the cushions and carrying the containers of milk to the kitchen. His tits are already starting to fill (again! ridiculous; it’s got to be his body reacting to the eggs), though he ignores them, just as he ignores the increasing pull between his legs.  He’s carried seven years of pregnancies to fruition; he can hold out a little longer.  Cas hefts the milk jugs onto the highest shelf in the cold room, feeling a twinge as he stretches.  The egg shifts lower as he collects towels and starts to heat water in the large bathing room. His hips feel abnormally tight as he bends over the sink to rinse out the tubes from the milker. Cas walks and works for twenty minutes. He’s on his hands and knees, reaching under the chaise to get the small egg he’d expelled last night when he begins to feel the need to push again. 

By the time Cas has waddled down to the bathing room, the bathing tub is almost full and he’s starting to pant with the effort of resisting the push.   The room is full of steam, but through the warm damp, Cas catches a glimpse of himself in one of the large mirrors as he steps into the tub.  It brings him up short.  Gabriel had told him but it’s not ‘til Cas sees himself full length and heavily pregnant that he believes it: he’s gorgeous.   He’s big, but his wide hips balance out the roundness of his belly, so he looks firm and strong, not flabby.  His tits are still puffy from the milker, the aureolae bigger than usual.  As he straddles the rim of the tub, the head of his cock peeks from the dark bush of curls in the shadow of his belly.  White skin, relieved by tufts of black hair and patches of pale, pretty pink.  As he watches, as he feels it, Cas sees his belly tighten, pulling up.  His cock bobs.  His mouth falls open and he barely recognizes the sounds that come out as his own.

The contraction hits full-force, snapping Cas out of his reverie while he’s still got one foot on the tiled floor and the other in the water.  Goddess, he needs to _push_.  Cas grits his teeth and grinds himself against the rim of the tub.  His balls shrink when they touch the cool, hard marble, but the tub walls are six inches across and it feel good to have something thick between his thighs.  Eventually, Cas musters the strength to climb all the way into the tub.  The water is hot and soothing, especially since the tub is deep enough for a knocked-up omega.  He wedges himself into a corner, gets his ass up on the little marble shelf that will keep him above the water, hooks his arms over the rim of the tub.  When he moans with relief, belly and tits gone buoyant, his voice bounces off the tiled walls.  

Cas looks over the dome of his belly, which breaks the surface of the water like a volcanic mountaintop.  Beyond it, he can see another little island: the head of his cock.  He’s hard—that never happens when he’s really birthing, but this time, the egg is smooth and hard against his prostate.  Cas lets himself push on the next contraction, not hard, just enough to feel the egg move inside him…an inch, two inches.  His uterus has clamped tight, protecting his babies.  It won’t soften now until he’s pushed out the egg. Cas can feel a little lump (an elbow? a heel?) jutting out just below his navel.  He spreads both hands on his belly.  Fuck, he looks huge like this.  He remembers someone holding him like this—kneading his stuffed womb, big hands on a wet belly—when he’d been in labor once.  

Cas pushes again, luxuriates in the smooth slide of the egg inside.  He tries to remember the details as he waits for the next contraction.   The triplets, he decides, bouncing his hips, huffing out a series of little clenching pushes.  They’d come early, in the spring.  Most omega labors are short and intense, but he’d gone so long with the second baby that he’d gone out to the big birthing pool in the courtyard.  He remembers cold March air on his nipples and how someone—a beta midwife, or maybe an observing Alpha?—had climbed into the warm water with him, cradled his big swollen belly from behind.  Want that now, Cas thinks, suddenly fretfully: Jensen’s mouth on my tits, Gabriel massaging my back.  Cas jacks his cock.  His body still urges him to push, but his cervix is starting to cramp, as are the muscles in his hips.  _Oooh, Goddess_ , he breathes into the next contraction: the egg is at the mouth of his birth canal, the ring of fire.  It’s different when it isn’t a knot stretching you, when you’re not high as a kite on hormones and Alpha musk.  Cas feels himself stretching, the heavy egg burning against his cuntlips .  He’s got both heels hooked over the walls of the tub, so _open_.  His hips are churning the water of their own volition.  Cas remembers how Jensen had moved when he was birthing, hips rolling like someone was fucking him.  Yes, yes, Cas pants, pretending the burning stretch is a baby, or an Alpha knotting a baby inside him.  He comes when the egg bursts free, cum spattering his still-swollen belly.


End file.
